


Promises to Keep

by lesyeuxverts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxverts/pseuds/lesyeuxverts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At night, magic didn't matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises to Keep

The flat was blessedly silent, without the clamour of refugees or the prattle of Gryffindor fools. Severus sank into the cushions of the sofa, putting up his feet and taking a sip of his tea. It was black and strong, undiluted by the milk and sugar that Potter added when he made tea, and not the weak swill that Weasley made when it was his turn in the kitchen.   
  
Draco came in the room, carrying a cup of tea. "You made this pot?" he asked Severus, taking a sip only when Severus nodded. "Weasley left a mess in the kitchen again."  
  
Severus said nothing. Neither he nor Draco had been allowed wands after the trials – privileges to be restored on condition of good behaviour, if the Wizengamot could be believed. Severus would sooner wash Ronald Weasley's dishes by hand than trust in that promise.   
  
Promises were all they had got, in the end. Potter had promised to take care of them – had promised to take care of everyone "unjustly sentenced" by the Wizengamot in his opinion – and had taken them into his home when they had nowhere else to go. Draco was still sulking over the loss of his peacocks, but Severus had his books and Potter had promised to let him brew. Anything to pass the time – anything to escape the caterwauling that took over the house when Potter and Weasley were home.  
  
Magically expanded space only went so far before it ran the risk of stretching the space into nothing, and there wasn't a great deal of space to start out with in the sort of flat that two Auror trainees could afford.   
  
"Weasley is a lout," Draco said.  
  
"And Potter has a voice that could shatter glass at twenty paces, and shouldn't be permitted to sing in the shower, but there is nowhere else for us to go, Draco. Unlike the others–"  
  
"The Wizengamot isn't likely to relent early. I know." Draco drained the rest of his tea and swirlled the cup, looking into it.   
  
"You'll not see–"  
  
"I took Trelawney's class, I know that. Divination's all bunk. We wouldn't be here otherwise." Draco looked up sharply, his face pale in the shadows. The afternoon light had come and gone, and neither Severus nor Draco had wands to charm the lamps.   
  
"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I didn't mean that–"  
  
Severus waved a hand at him. "It's over and done now, all of it. Don't dwell–"  
  
"From a man who was in love with her for two decades–"  
  
Severus got to his feet and stalked out of the room, leaving his tea behind. He could brew another pot, now that the kitchen was his – the kettle, at least, didn't require a wand.   
  
\-----  
  
At night, things were different. Severus and Draco slept in a little room that had been stretched out of the space in the wall between the loo and Potter's bedroom. They had two beds, not inches away, and slept practically on top of each other, as they had done once before. Severus could reach out and touch Draco, if he needed to.  
  
"I really am sorry," Draco said. They were quiet at night, speaking in soft voices that never grew louder than Potter's snores.   
  
"Then let it go." Severus himself had nowhere to go – no way to let go of old grudges, old habits. He'd earned them fairly in the war. He'd had to act as if he hated Potter and Weasley and everything they stood for, everything they loved. He'd had to see Lily's eyes, day after day.  
  
Severus had had to kill Albus Dumbledore, and he'd done it for Draco, the boy who lay next to him in the dark. Severus could hear him breathing, could hear the rustle of sheets when he moved.   
  
He tried to be grateful that he had a place to live, that Potter had played the noble Gryffindor and taken them in. Severus tried to ignore the unwashed dishes and the dreadful singing, the Gryffindor crowd that descended on the apartment every Sunday, the horde of ginger cats that Molly insisted the boys keep in order to ward off the rodents that she imagined in their flat.  
  
They were small things compared to the loss of his magic, inconveniences to be borne, inconveniences that could be easily borne by the judicious application of a little whisky. Potter's loud snores were nothing compared to the Dark Lord's favourite tortures. _Let it go,_ Severus had told Draco, and he tried to do it himself.   
  
The real thing was his wand – but at night, magic didn't matter. There was nothing he needed it for. Severus lay next to Draco, almost close enough to feel his warmth, and took deep breaths, pretending that the flat was silent as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
